“I fail to see the joke,” Sir John said. “I suppose, Mr. However, I daresay that we shall come across one another before long. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. ” Brendon rushed to the piano and strummed out a tune.
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